The plan for the rest of the day was time to relax an explore, possibly take a dip in the hot tub, or grab a massage, then lunch followed by an afternoon chemistry session. Then we were free until dinner and from dinner onward. Of course, though nobody mentioned it, dinner would be an informal chemistry session too. I had done enough of these corporate team-building sessions to know that the ‘social’ aspects always served double duty as bonding activities, with alcohol as an added social lubricant for those who indulged.
I was willing to bet money that there would be name tags at the table place settings, and we’d be forced to make small talk with a member of the other company. Even so, I was looking forward to dinner as welcome relief from Beck’s advances. Being as we’d spent the most time ‘getting to know’ one another, either through legitimate business correspondence and calls, or through our more illicit contact, we would obviously not be seated together to eat.
I was actually genuinely intrigued to learn more about the team. Apart from all being genetically over-blessed in the looks department, and eagerly committed to winning at everything they turned their hands to, I couldn’t quite see how the four partners fit together as a cohesive unit that was capable of such greatness. On paper, at least, they seemed so different from each other that it was easier to believe they were mortal enemies than loyal best friends.
In reality, in the time I had spent with the four of them, both in the pitch and in the earlier introduction session, it was obvious that despite their differences, they shared a bond that set them apart from most business partnerships. They laughed and joked together with an ease and comfort borne of twelve years of friendship and clearly had a strong rapport.
My heart twanged at the thought. They’d bonded twelve years ago, when they’d met at Yale, mere weeks after I’d slipped from Beck’s life, seemingly forever. It was arrogant to assume they’d filled a void I left, but at the very least, they were a big part of his life at a time when, had our plans panned out, I would have been too. I should have been.
The ache in my chest deepened and a blanket of sadness enveloped me. Sure I was happy for the most part now, but I couldn’t help but mourn what I had lost. The Ty I’d once known no longer existed, and the other three men knew Beck in a way I never could. I’d missed so much and was likely to miss so much more.
I sank heavily to the bed with my head in my hands. How the fuck was I going to get through the next two days and the following few weeks as the pitch continued?
I’d laid down the challenge to Beck for us to follow the process through in a professional and adult manner, and not only had we failed at the first hurdle—resorting to dry-humping in public to get our kicks—but I’d also willingly invited a world of pain into my life by opening old wounds whose scars I’d thought had long since healed and sealed.
I was wrong, and now that I’d raised my head out of the fog of denial I’d been living under, I was feeling things I never expected to feel again, and certainly didn’t welcome feeling now. So. Epically. Screwed.
The early part of the day passed exactly as planned, and without event. In our first free time session, I took the time to explore the grounds of the house. It was the embodiment of the dignified luxury of yesteryear, from the beautifully manicured lawns, artistically shaped hedges and immaculate maze to the wildflowers growing down by the lake, and the rolling hills and gullies in the distance. The air was clean and tranquil—the only sounds the occasional bird call and the rush of air past my ears as the breeze blew.
With such a ridiculously busy and often stressful life, somewhere as unhurried and untouched as this really was bliss. I’d already started to miss the place, and I hadn’t even left yet. I hadn’t been aware of its existence before today, but I was sure I’d be back in the future. It was glorious. I booked in for a massage the following day and resolved to go for a hike first thing in the morning. I wanted to make the most of the solitude and everything else the stunning location had to offer.
Our first chemistry session went without a hitch also. The team at BR&ND had an external facilitator run the sessions which were a mixture of fun ice-breaking activities and more serious strategic exercises, designed to tease out information about our brand and products, that they would then incorporate into the final presentation of work to us the following week.
It was a slick process, and I could definitely understand their unbroken pitching record. Already, halfway through day one, this activity had put them streets ahead of the agency they were competing against for our business. Beck had even managed to behave himself throughout. I did catch him subtly looking my way a few times, but he was discreet enough that Martin, Nico and Anthony wouldn’t have picked up on it. At least I hoped so.
At dinner I was relieved to see that common sense had prevailed, and I wasn’t seated next to Beck, thank goodness. I don’t know how I would have managed a full meal sitting so close, with the way he had behaved during the morning introductions.
Nate and Martin had liaised a number of times over contractual and logistical issues, so they weren’t seated together, either. It went without saying that Dillon and Nico had been placed well away from each other, although I did look up on a number of occasions to find Dillon shooting daggers at Beck as he chatted animatedly to Nico, seemingly unaware of the imminent peril in the form of a not-too-happy Dillon. Interesting.
I was sure Martin found Dillon even more difficult to converse with than his usual terse self, given how distracted he seemed. Nate and Anthony seemed to get on like a house on fire. From snippets of conversation I overheard, they shared a passion for MMA, which kept them occupied throughout the meal. For my part, I was happy to get to know Raine better. Despite his questionable taste in cars, he was genuinely one of the wittiest people I’d met in a long time. His intellect and creativity came through in everything he said, and he had a genuinely fascinating and off-the-wall opinion about just about any topic of conversation. The man was a scream.
After dinner we retired to the drawing room where we’d met in the morning, for coffee or cocktails. Just adjacent there was a game room where a few people headed to play ping-pong or pool, or to watch the wall-mounted TV at the far end of the room. Nico stayed in the drawing room curled up with a magazine and a glass of red wine, a blanket covering her legs. Interestingly, Dillon occupied an adjacent couch, playing himself at chess, and studiously ignoring Nico. Odd. But then the British IT whizz was definitely a little different.
I finally got my much-craved espresso martini, and wandered out onto the wraparound veranda with it. Being early Spring, it wasn’t cold as such, but now the sun had gone down, and we were in the mountains, there was definitely a slight chill in the air. I balanced my glass on the wide balustrade and rubbed at my forearms for warmth.
As I reached for my drink again, I was enveloped into a bear hug from behind. Even before he spoke, I knew who it was. If nothing else, as his strong arms embraced me, his unique scent encircled me. It was a combination of cologne and pure, unadulterated Beck. The smell made me weak.
Mel
“You need to stop creeping up on me like that. Apart from almost scaring me half to death, the more you do it, the more chance we have of getting caught. I mean, anyone could spring us right now”